


Mermaid

by cyaneyesullivan



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: DoPil, I Don't Even Know, Jealousy, M/M, allpil, but the main pairing is jaepil, it’s not about mermaids, kinda coming of age, slight angst, sungpil, wonpil centric, youngfeel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-01-27 19:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21397297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyaneyesullivan/pseuds/cyaneyesullivan
Summary: In order to get over his massive, hopeless crush, Wonpil is willing to put many things at stake: his friendship, his time and his whole-again-broken-again heart.Meanwhile, it takes three boyfriends for Jae to finally break.
Relationships: Day6/Kim Wonpil, Kim Wonpil/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Comments: 88
Kudos: 133





	1. Juniper

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by:   
\- a jaepil edit on instagram  
\- the song in that edit, Love Me Like You  
\- a poem called The Mermaid
> 
> chapters will vary in length! some will be way shorter than others
> 
> enjoy!

There didn’t exist an occasion where Wonpil wouldn’t sing in the shower. Among many other little things, this was one pass-time he wholeheartedly enjoyed. Jae, determined to seize every opportunity to be the biggest bane of Wonpil’s life, wouldn’t hesitate to agree that Wonpil objectively went delirious with joy for everything. 

In the midst of his scrubbing and simultaneous singing, he failed to hear the incessant banging on the bathroom door. The pounding stopped with a thump of finality that caused him to jump and swiftly cut the water. He awkwardly stood in the excess pool of soap and water, bare and cold and waiting for whatever was bound to follow. 

“Yeaaaah?” he called out.

“Gosh darn it hyung, I’ve been calling for ages! I thought you died or something,” he heard the muffled voice of his little brother trickling from behind the door.

“What do you want?” He waited, but he could hardly hear his brother’s mumbling subdued by the walls and the deafening sound of water dripping. “What? Can you repeat?”

“I said,” he emphasized it with dramatic weight and an added bang to the door, “there’s a phone call for you.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jae.”

At the sound of that name, Wonpil scrambled to get the shampoo out of his hair and felt stupid for not turning on the water first. “I’ll be right there! Tell him to call again in ten minutes!”

Judging by the sound of a disgruntled whine—something about brothers being dumbasses—Wonpil was sure that his brother wasn’t troubled enough to listen to a word he’d said, so he rushed through the rest of his shower without the short-lived joy of singing. 

Still sodding wet, Wonpil slipped into a set of clean clothes faster than he’d ever imagined himself capable and sprinted down the stairs. Surprisingly, his brother was uttering the words that Wonpil had asked of him into the little speaker of the house phone. 

“Yeah… yeah I told him— oh, hang on, he’s here.”

“Move,” Wonpil panted out, watching his brother step aside and hand him the phone before disappearing to wherever he emerged from. “Jae hyung?” he evened out his breath.

The first thing that filtered through the line was Jae’s typical huff of annoyance. Wonpil had learned to look past its faux nature of hostility and accepted it with a stupid smile. 

“What happened to helping each other with our chemistry project, huh? You know what, screw that, when will you even get a cell?”

“Cell phones are overrated. And stop being a jerk hyung, I was showering. I’m coming in like, five.”

“If you’re even one second late, I will make you eat this paper,” Jae threatened, to which Wonpil responded with a snort. “What are you snorting at? Get your ass here and you’ll see that I’m not joking.”

“Right hyung, see you in five.” 

As Wonpil hung up and placed the phone back into its slot, he made short work of examining himself in the square mirror draped adjacent to their front door. 

His damp hair spilled out in random directions in all its curly, half-dried splendor. Some areas of his face were flushed from his rubbing obstinate soap leftovers. His eyes looked like they were perturbed by a session of weed-smoking—aside from them being crossed, but changing the way he was put into existence was beyond his command. Overall, Wonpil thought he was the diametrical definition of attractive right now.

Even though he would have thrived with a few more minutes of hair-arrangement and the skincare routine he rarely ever stuck to, Wonpil would hate to find out what his assignment paper tasted like. So without batting his eyes at himself for longer than he should, Wonpil sauntered out the door and started towards the sloped road that lent itself to Jae’s house. It was only a minute’s walk so he doubted that the paper would go anywhere near his throat. He used the spare time to straighten his clothes and fiddle with his hair some more. 

As he arrived into Jae’s room, he was greeted with the most exasperated once-over of his life. Inescapably, Jae teased him of living life at a snail’s pace and looking like a wet dog, because he seemed to be unable to live without insulting Wonpil in one way or another.

After the prelude to a life-threatening headlock contest and a brief pillow fight that ended up with Wonpil toppling to the ground, laughing hysterically as he went, they finally settled on the bed and summoned a sufficient amount of concentration, which, when combined, was subpar at best. 

Halfway through the assignment, Jae considered their work decent enough to reward themselves a short break. Wonpil, at the marvel of what it was like to own a phone, left a collection of memorable photos that Jae could look back on in his times of doldrums. Jae, indifferent to Wonpil’s hopeless attempts at achieving a wink, thoughtlessly strummed his guitar in a resolution to produce some sort of melody. 

They never spoke if they didn’t need to, so it was mostly silent. Still, in these moments of offbeat peace, Wonpil couldn’t help but wish to hear even a figment of Jae’s thoughts. 

As if Jae was the one with mind-reading abilities, he sighed. “Yo, Pil.”

“Hm?” Wonpil looked up from Jae’s phone and was met with the large expanse of his back. He was seated at the edge of his bed, while Wonpil was nearly swallowed by the generous but unnecessary amount of pillows. From behind, he couldn’t be sure what kind of emotion Jae’s face was expressing.

“What do you think of Juniper?”

Wonpil frowned, trying his hardest to recount where he’d heard the name from. Jae turned to him at the lack of answers, and upon scrutiny, Wonpil struggled to read his schooled face. “You mean our English teacher?” 

“No, what the hell, that’s Jessica. Juniper is an exchange student from America, you dumbass.”

That got Wonpil even more confused. Since when was there an American exchange student and why hadn’t their school gone feral over a foreigner yet? Or perhaps Wonpil was too caught in his own world to realize. 

“Well fuck you, you dried frog, how am I supposed to know who Juniper is?”

“Maybe if you cleaned your eyes a bit, you would know. And did you just call me a dried frog? You couldn’t come up with better?”

“It’s not my fault that you look like one. Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror?”

“But do I need to, though?”

Wonpil wanted to warrant that, no, Jae didn’t need that daily self-assessment in front of his bathroom mirror because regardless of what time of day it was, no miracles could ruin his charm. But today wasn’t the day that Wonpil would make a fool out of himself, so he bit his tongue and hoped his innermost impulses wouldn’t betray him.

“You should consider.”

“So! Anyway, thoughts on Juniper?” Like a switch had been flipped, Jae grew serious, so Wonpil did his best to think of anything Juniper-related in respect of his friend’s solemnity. 

“I can’t really say… I don’t know her.” That was what he ended up saying. He felt something crawl in his chest when Jae looked nothing short of disappointed. 

“Ok,” he said simply, motionless for a few seconds before turning away.

Wonpil waited a silent minute, torn between caving in to his curiosity or just leave Jae to simmer in his thoughts. He bit his lips, picked at the time-worn Slipknot sticker that was hardly surviving at the back of Jae’s phone case as Jae went back to casually pinching the strings of his guitar. 

“Why?” Wonpil asked. Jae stopped the vibrations of the chords with a steady palm and appraised him once more, glasses lowered.

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to know about Juniper?”

Jae blankly stared at him, blinking three times successively. It was that strange muscle spasm that Jae had to live with. 

However, Wonpil wasn’t granted with a satisfactory response as Jae tilted his head back to his guitar, muttering a gentle “nothing, just wanted to know” into the silence. He began fixing his chords, leaving Wonpil to meaningfully ponder on the nonsense of it all.

If this was a way to make him understand what he dreaded to understand, the last thing on Wonpil’s mind was to find out who Juniper really was. 

For the remainder of the day, Wonpil stayed uncharacteristically quiet as they did their assignment, and Jae was probably too busy becoming an expert on molecular science to notice. 

Instead of singing in the shower that night, Wonpil took to humming.


	2. Sungjin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter, beautiful eyes, and the cold truth.

The weather was nice and gentle, his History class was canceled and Wonpil had plans with Jae after school. So far, his day was even better than he'd hoped. 

He was getting ready for his next class, casually rummaging through the contents of his locker. Of course, it took him specifically a few extra seconds to grab what he wanted to get because his locker lived in the constant misery of looking like the aftermath of a hurricane. 

The chemistry paper had been gracelessly shoved between books and unidentifiable things in his morning haste, and as he struggled to find it now, his hand landed upon a folded paper swimming amongst the rest of his unsorted belongings. Curious, Wonpil opened the paper fan-style and scanned it like he would any meaningless astray paper. 

His breath got caught in his throat. 

Wonpil actually couldn't term this particular piece of paper  _ meaningless  _ for various reasons. The fact that it unraveled to be a love letter was one of them. But most importantly, he recognized the handwriting immediately. 

It belonged to Jae. 

In reality, Wonpil couldn't be a hundred percent positive that Jae wrote this letter. It wasn’t even signed. They only shared one class together, and Wonpil never found it necessary to focus on those kinds of details. But to be fair, it was difficult to forget how unreadable Jae's handwriting was. In the letter, it still seemed like he made efforts, though gradually loosening. 

After the realization sank in completely, Wonpil could physically feel his heart twisting upon itself, and rather than wondering if he should get it clinically checked out, he wondered what pushed an outwardly cold person like  _ Jae _ , out of all cold social hermits, to such romantic resolutions. 

Jae wrote him a letter. A love letter.

Miraculously, as Wonpil's eyes distantly flicked back to his locker, his assignment paper appeared as visible as black on white, impossible to miss. He grabbed it and slowly closed his locker to a shut. Against his will, his lips contorted into an uncontrollable smile. 

His daze of happiness was cut short as he moved forth and collided into a sturdy chest. Everything he held dropped to the ground with a resounding slap. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he apologized, collapsing on his knees and tending to the strewn books and papers on the floor, a mix of his and the other guy's. He bent down as well, gentle hands helping Wonpil sort through the mess they created.

"No, I'm sorry, I should have looked where I was going. It's not your fault," the guy responded, his voice a smooth, pleasant sound. “Are you alright?”

Wonpil looked up and nearly gasped. He could have sworn he had never seen prettier eyes, catching the sunlight oozing from outside. It was Sungjin's infamous pair of incredibly beautiful eyes that had ascended straight from the heavens. 

"I'm… I'm sorry," he repeated dumbly in a desperate attempt to cure his speechlessness. Sungjin seemed to find it amusing, the teasing smile on his face made it obvious.

They got up to a stand, their belongings in the wrong hands. Sungjin was still smiling when he nudged the books in front of Wonpil. 

"Here, your things."

“Thank you,” Wonpil recovered his things and gave back Sungjin’s. He looked at his hands. 

“Bye,” said Sungjin. His cute crinkled eyes coupled with his cute genuine smile took Wonpil’s breath away. He’d never wanted to whimper at a sight as badly as right now.

“Bye,” Wonpil mumbled to himself, staring at Sungjin’s retreating back. Soon, Wonpil was in class, dreamily gazing ahead of himself.

Wonpil couldn’t stop thinking of the letter he received. In fact, his hands couldn’t leave it alone, always twisting it with restrained enthusiasm. He traced the folds, reread the sweet words over and over again, painted it with Jinyoung’s pastel highlighters. 

Jae was stuck in his mind, webbed to every fiber of his being. Wonpil was such a fool for this man, whom he’d been in love with since god knows when, and the thought of his feelings being mutual felt unreal. It made him squeeze his knees together, bite his lips in sheer excitement and be at the receiving end of Jinyoung’s judgmental side-eyes. Class was virtually nonexistent to him in that moment.

“You ok?” Jinyoung asked without sparing him a glance.

“Can I borrow your phone?” Wonpil could barely contain himself. He decided to go with the confrontation, but he would hate to ruin the surprise immediately.

“Sure.”

Knowing the digits by heart, he made swift work of dialing Jae’s number in the middle of class and sent him a message. 

_ let’s meet at the school gates after class! it’s pil _

Short, to the point, and in true Wonpil fashion. Everything that would not raise suspicion.

_ sure _

_ we were gonna do that anyway _

_ but get a fucking cell dude, i swear _

Wonpil giggled at the phone and stared at it until Jinyoung cleared his throat in reminder. After Wonpil gave the phone back to him, he proceeded to clutch at the letter and press it to his chest, a stupid,  _ stupid  _ smile eating his face. Jinyoung pinched his nose bridge and sighed in a silent prayer to give him the patience. 

It felt like a decade had passed by the time the final bell rang. Wonpil shot out of his seat, his books already neatly packed in his bag, and quickly made his way to the school gates with a flutter in his stomach. This was the element that would seal his fate, after all. 

A sea of people filed by him and for a while, there was no indication that Jae was coming. The crowd was thinning, his peers either returning home or staying for a later class. When Wonpil was beginning to wonder how much more bitter the taste of rejection could get, Jae finally appeared in sight. 

But Jae wasn't by himself. 

A girl whose face Wonpil had never seen before was walking at his side, shoulder-to-shoulder. Their hands grazed and Wonpil would have preferred not to have noticed the way Jae's fingers twitched. Their proximity made it clear that their relationship went beyond that of casual friends. 

The smile on Wonpil's face fell. 

If he'd been holding anything fragile, it would have fallen to the ground as well. 

The scene unearthing before his eyes was reduced to a cliché slow-mo, making every second considerably more painful. The girl beside him was speaking with distinctively feminine gesticulations, her long ebony hair flowing in the wind. But Jae wasn't actively talking, and his smile held a shy quiver. 

Years of time spent with him eventually trained Wonpil to pick up on the most elusive of his social cues, and Wonpil could tell with cold conviction that his friend was acting very un-Jae-like. Shy, reserved, _infatuated_.

The girl came to a startling halt and pulled Jae's neck to place a kiss on his cheek, and Wonpil was gripped by the need to either look or run away, but he found himself transfixed to where he stood, unable to tear his gaze from the frozen daze on Jae's face. 

The girl pulled away just as Jae's hand whisked out to cup his face, a disgusting smile blooming. Wonpil's sight became a momentary haze of thoughts and emotions. He could hardly believe this optical disappointment, even less deal with it. When he pulled himself together, the girl was already waving goodbye, leaving Jae to motionlessly stare after her as she retreated to wherever she came from. Wonpil watched all of it in horror.

Jae began to bite his lips and pumped a fist in the air. He looked like Wonpil earlier, when he’d foolishly thought that Jae had it in himself to write him a letter, let alone grow feelings for him.

As Jae made his approach, Wonpil wanted nothing but to flee. Nonetheless, it wasn't an option if it would later give him more trouble in the form of Jae's complaints for abandoning him, so Wonpil forced himself to stand straight and school his face into anything that didn't express how disheartened he currently was. If he spoke, would there only be the sound of his shattered heart?

As Jae noticed him, Wonpil started to wiggle his brows. Clueless, Jae stood in front of him and took advantage of his natural resting bitch face to pull off the most apathetic air he could manage. If Wonpil didn't just witness the nightmare that happened, he would have been completely unaware of the act. 

"Juniper huh?" Wonpil teased. Though he could feel his voice waver, it thankfully did not show.

Jae's face morphed into panic. "Shit, you saw that?"

"Juniper huh??" Wonpil began to laugh. It helped keep his scorching tears where they were supposed to stay.

"Shut up and let's go." Jae tugged at Wonpil's backpack to urge him into walking.

"Jesus, you're turning so red! Did that kiss get you all shy?" 

"Oi, shut up. The weather's just hot, ok?" Jae adjusted his collar in clarification. Wonpil kept the comments to himself, or perhaps they all dried in his throat before he had the chance to retort. Instead, he chuckled bitterly. As they traipsed along the sidewalk, Jae pointed at Wonpil's hand. "Hey, what's that?"

With dawning realization, Wonpil checked his hand. It was balled around a paper, now a chaotic crumple. He dipped his hand in his pocket. 

"It's nothing," Wonpil murmured, clearly awkward. Jae raised a brow at him, waiting for him to notice it and elaborate as Wonpil-on-any-other-day would, but he pretended to be interested in something else across the street. 

If Jae thought it was suspicious, he wasn’t honest about it. Meanwhile, Wonpil wasn’t brave enough to think of anything at all.

That night, Wonpil didn't sing in the shower. His brother asked him if he was alright. Wonpil didn't respond. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this sounds like it’s gonna be hella angsty but it’s really not THAT angsty
> 
> i’ll try to update frequently :(


	3. To heal disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new beginning...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all who have left kudos and comments! it keeps me going, for real! 
> 
> (this work is very self-indulgent, btw. it’s very, very wonpil-centric, just saying.)

Wonpil was staring at his ceiling, fully clothed in his warm, ironed uniform and ready to go to school. All he needed to do now was to drag himself out of bed and be proactive in getting his education. 

It was easier said than done, obviously. His foul mood allowed him to do very little about all the things his duty as a student demanded of him. But Wonpil had no say in whether or not this was a perfect day to skip classes, so he wiped the remaining tears from his cheeks and forced himself to leave his room. 

There weren't many things on this earth that could put Wonpil in a state of continual distress. He usually was quick to screw his head on straight and blend in with the motions of life as radiant as a child in a toy store. But of course, sadness was inevitable even in a person almost perpetually happy, and when it punched in, it was acute and grinding. Just as Jae brought enormous bliss in his life, when he hurt, it felt more like a stab in the throat.

"You're exaggerating," a voice said. It sounded like him, but he didn't recall having spoken.

Wonpil snapped back to reality, wherein he was seated on the rickety chair in his classroom. His brother's confounded face greeted him in the midst of him wondering how he’d even gotten here. 

"You said that?" Wonpil asked. His little brother rolled his eyes. He was shorter than Wonpil, but he'd never seemed taller when he loomed over his desk like that. 

"Yes stupid. You're exaggerating. It's  _ not  _ going to kill you to go to school for god's sake."

"What are you talking about?" Wonpil frowned.

"Your face, hyung. You look like you're on the verge of crying." 

It took Wonpil a while to realize that his brother wasn't referring to his thoughts. Self-conscious, he patted his face as though it would help him sort his feelings into something that made sense. Sure enough, the skin around his eyes was tight. It stung slightly under his clammy fingers.

"Here, read this and get more sleep tonight." His brother, looking equal parts concerned and annoyed, slapped a glossy paper on his table before deserting the classroom. Wonpil examined the paper that his brother had left him with. It turned out to be a poster promoting a mini concert held at their school gymnasium. 

Piqued, Wonpil suddenly remembered that Sungjin was performing later today. He'd overheard it from a bunch of girls enthusing about his fingers and the way they "caressed" his guitar. Park Sungjin was renowned for his looks and talents for a reason.

When classes were dismissed, Wonpil dropped by the gymnasium all in the name of gratifying his curiosity. When he arrived, the lights were dimmed to a dark violet tone, and a stage that wasn't there two days ago was lit by halos of green and red. There were a few plastic chairs strewn across the rest of the space in case people wanted to sit. Most of the spectators were standing though, because it was the only means of getting as close to the stage as possible. Even Sungjin's feet captivated more attention than Wonpil ever could at his best apparel. 

They really invested for the event this time. Last year, Wonpil's piano performance took place on the basketball court, half-assedly pinned ribbons serving as decoration. One of them even fell to the ground in the middle of his song, and for at least ten minutes, everyone else was occupied by the pathetic thing and figuring out ways to stick it back to its place. 

But then, he remembered Jae lurching to a stand before anyone else when Wonpil ended his performance with a redeeming flourish. He also clapped louder than a proud parent, and was the only one to have called out his name without a flush of shame. They went for fast food after that and Wonpil dared label it one of the most interesting days in his life, where Jae had been inexplicably nice to him.

Wonpil smiled fondly at the recollection. But before he got carried away with the wave of emotions that threatened to follow, he peered over the concourse of heads and arms reaching out to grab even a fragment of Sungjin's attention. Of course anyone would want it, his recognition could probably cure the black plague. 

And Wonpil understood it, really, with the way that he was slightly slouched to pour his soul into the mic and how elegant his hands were when they played the guitar. It was like Sungjin didn't cry the moment he was born, he sang instead and probably made the doctors tear up or something. 

Everyone seemed to be gushing about his looks and his confident, imposing presence, yet what Wonpil found the most pleasant about this man was his voice. It rivaled Jae's powerful belting in ways that teared Wonpil in half. 

While Jae leaned more towards an untamed extravaganza in both his performance and singing, Sungjin was collected and cool, the only movement being his foot tapping along the rhythm. But his face told passion in thousands of different ways. Jae only ever had his resting bitch face and was going to bring it to his grave, too. 

Sungjin was singing about heartaches and bitter tears when he caught Wonpil's gaze and held it. He threw a smile from across the stage and Wonpil's stomach did an involuntary flip. Enmeshed, Wonpil could hardly function outside of his intense staring. 

That was all it took for Wonpil to decide that Sungjin was his new crush. 

But as if to punish that, arms grabbed him by the shoulder from behind and locked him in a familiar embrace. The skinny arms and bony hug made him wonder if it was Jae. But Wonpil remembered that the number of friends he had didn't go beyond the count of an index. 

He turned his head to greet Jae, who only smiled at him. 

"Why are you hugging me? Do you secretly love me or something?" Wonpil scoffed, accidentally making it come off more crabby than appropriate. He thanked the gods that Jae didn't notice it.

"Don't be stupid, I'm not hugging you. It's a bro side-hug, it doesn't count as affection."

"You didn't deny that you secretly loved me though," Wonpil teased, and Jae pretended to throw up.

"That's just you fooling yourself. It was never implied."

Ordinarily, Wonpil wouldn't think much of it, but today, he looked away and could barely administer his face into looking like he was happy and unbothered. 

It was less of a problem now, when Sungjin was thriving on that stage like he could take over the world with a snap of his fingers. He'd been on there for a while now.  _ Does he ever get tired? _

Jae was still holding on to him when he leaned forth in an effort to inspect his face. The proximity was uncomfortably close.

"What are you doing?" Wonpil forced a chuckle and shrugged himself away until Jae's hands on his shoulders remained the only points of physical contact between them.

"Ew, there are stars in your eyes, you like him or something?" Jae nodded towards the stage. 

Words are stuck in Wonpil's throat as he fixed Jae in the face. For a moment, he forgot the most elementary of Korean basics. He tried to smile and answered, "yeah, he's really cool."

Jae, unconvinced, arched a brow. "Have you even talked to him?"

"Yeah I have!" Wonpil threw a hand on his chest, acting scandalized at Jae's stupid question. What was stupider was that he was half lying. "What do you think, that I fall for the next person that isn't shorter than me?" 

"That would be basically everyone," Jae shrugged, squeezing Wonpil's shoulder. 

"Screw you," Wonpil slapped Jae's arm and laughed. "You're just unfairly tall. A giant human." 

"Midget," Jae mumbled. That was when Sungjin ended one of his songs and bowed to accept the loud round of applause and whistles that entailed. Jae waited for it to subside before speaking up again, "but it wouldn't surprise me though." 

"What wouldn't surprise you?" 

"That you're into people like Sungjin."

Wonpil frowned. That sounded slightly derogatory. "Why?"

"Because you have appalling taste as far as boys are concerned." 

Wonpil would laugh at the fact that Jae had just essentially insulted himself, but he was busy being as impressed as he was stupefied that Jae saw Sungjin in a bad light.

"What do you mean? He's like, the school's sweetheart." 

"That's the point, silly. He's straighter than a stick." Wonpil was intrigued by the use of  _ silly _ . Jae normally used terms like  _ dumbass  _ or  _ idiot  _ when describing his intellect, so this was undoubtedly an attempt at softening the blow.

Sungjin began playing a slow song. Arms were stretched out to sway along the tune. Jae's hands forced them to sway along as well. 

"It's ok hyung," Wonpil responded sadly, letting himself be rocked sideways, "sometimes, love is worth going through the pain." Jae stayed silent.

They gazed ahead at the stage, the room collectively quiet halfway throughout the song, before Wonpil was struck with a realization. He turned to Jae, not anymore swaying. "Why are you still here anyway? Don't you have a girlfriend to be with?" 

"Nah, she's like discussing shades of lipstick with her friends or something. Her friends said they didn't allow boys at their table. I mean, can you believe this? She asked me what the difference between cherry red and scarlet sunset was, and when I couldn't answer, she just told me to get lost. How am I supposed to know!" 

Wonpil looked over all the way towards the back of the gymnasium where some tables were spread. It didn't take long to spot where Juniper was sitting and waving her phone in her friend's face. Wonpil sighed, knowing that this life would never permit him to be like that. Of course he'd like really feminine girls. 

"Besides," Jae continued, "I didn't think you'd make it. You said you were tired and busy, didn't you hm? I see you're really whipped for someone."

"Says you? You should have seen yourself when that girl kissed you on the cheek the other day. You looked like you could have fainted on the spot." Wonpil faked a gag, which prompted Jae to bite his smile and consecutively smack his back. 

"Oh, you're really annoying today," Jae said and laughed. Wonpil knew he was joking, so he leaned back and enjoyed this moment while it lasted. He could flounder in regret later. 

They spent the rest of the performance together, relinquishing to their need to sit and making worm-like dance moves, holding each other by the shoulder as they dramatically mouthed along to the lyrics. Wonpil was more glad than he was sad to be by Jae's side this time. It definitely improved his day by a mile.

When the concert was over, Juniper's friend group finally allowed Jae at their table. The moment Jae laced his fingers with his girlfriend, Wonpil whipped his head away in the opposite direction. 

He was about to exit the gymnasium and go home to cry in his pillow when Sungjin cut through his path, holding his guitar by the neck. Sweat clung to his temples and his hair was a messy tuft. 

Forget about Jae’s hideous face when he woke up. Wonpil craved to know what it was like to open his eyes to Sungjin in the morning of a sleepover, bed head and all.

In the middle of his daydream, Sungjin winked at him. Wonpil’s eyes widened, the butterflies went crazy in his stomach.

Wonpil was sure of it despite being submerged in the pervading dimness. Sungjin winked at him. Sungjin winked at Kim Wonpil, the happy-go-lucky loser who hung out with some lanky skateboarder.

Wonpil wound up never crying in his pillow that night. He began singing in the shower again. His brother nagged at him to sleep before ten, which Wonpil did. He had a guy to dream about, and for once, that person wasn’t tall and didn’t wear nerdy round glasses.

So Sungjin was straight, huh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little rant: with all the shows that day6 have been on lately, i can’t help but feel like wonpil has kinda become effaced, at times. of course i want my bias to have most of the attention (from jae, from the members, from the cameras) orz, but reality doesn’t work like that... hence the existence of this fic heehee   
in the imaginary world, i can make everything happen for no particular reason mwaha
> 
> anyway! that’s it, i’m curious to hear your thoughts on this!


	4. Then why did you accept?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonpil encounters a lot in one day, leaving him stranded at a metaphorical intersection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you! guys! your comments are amazing. thank you all who have read/kudoed/commented! my appreciation is endless.

The second time Wonpil received a letter, it was not drastically different from the first. He just didn’t collide into anyone this time. 

It was a morning obscured by clouds and the noticeable preambles of rain, and the glum beginning of the day undoubtedly didn’t deserve Wonpil’s radiant positivity that lit up the ten-meter radius around him.

He skipped by the hallway in his pleasant mood, flittered open his locker and stopped midway because two of his books tumbled to the ground. Wonpil took thirty seconds to glare at them in total exasperation as though mentally willing them to float back to his locker. It was inexcusably stupid so he grudgingly bent down to gather his stuff and, like the world was out to aggravate him, something else fell. 

If it didn’t take the same shape of the love letter he’d received, Wonpil wouldn’t have hesitated to tear it into pieces. This time, he carefully settled everything back in his locker to its chaotic arrangement and picked up the delicate paper before flouncing to his classroom.

It was math class and even though Wonpil didn’t downright hate it, the teacher was deplorable in his ways of teaching, particularly in the part where he was supposed to  _ be _ awake at the job. As of now, Wonpil took advantage of him nodding off at his desk, unaware that the students were now waiting for his return to consciousness, to fiddle the letter open and scan its content.

There were rabbits poorly drawn on the paper, littering in the corners and in the margin, some scratched out by bold black marker. He commended the effort, though, it was pretty cute although the same couldn’t be said about the malformed rabbits. Why it had to be rabbits out of all conceivable choice of animal, Wonpil had no clue. But the mere thought of someone  _ trying  _ just for him considerably warmed his heart. 

At this point, it was clear that this letter was in no possible deduction on Jae’s behalf, though it puzzled him that the handwriting irrefutably belonged to him. In his time of confusion, Wonpil had checked on their unsubmitted chemistry paper, and now, he couldn’t be more confident that the letter was, at the very least, written by him. 

_ Let not my love be called idolatry, _

_ Nor my beloved as an idol show, _

_ Since all alike my songs and praises be _

_ To one, of one, still such, and ever so. _

_ please forgive the total unoriginality of this shakespearean sonnet  _

He wasn’t sure whether he should be creeped out or extremely flattered, he hardly even understood Shakespeare. But Wonpil was the type to completely lose it when at the receipt of anything remotely romantic, and as things were supposed to be, this letter was no exception to that rule. He indeed felt beyond flattered and did not once stop wondering who this mysterious romantic might be. 

That same day, as Wonpil was wandering out of school, Sungjin very suddenly grabbed his arm. To say he was prepared for it would be a blatant lie, but even if he was, Sungjin’s determined face didn’t lend him much time to internally form words. 

"Hey, I was looking for you."

Wonpil  _ knew  _ with every fiber of his being that he looked extremely stupid letting his jaw hang like that, but nothing in his might could be done to help it. He cleared his throat and attempted to step away, but the hold kept him in place. "Oh, that's… but why?"

Sungjin let go of his wrist, it dropped lifelessly back to his side. Wonpil itched to touch the skin which the deity before him had just blessed with his fingers. 

Sungjin’s face shifted into something more somber, as though he was nervous, or perhaps bracing himself for something. His brows twitched and his gaze quivered as it fell to the ground, before moving back up. His thumb was picking at his index. 

Why would anyone, especially the likes of Sungjin, be nervous around him? It was a universal rule that Wonpil, in this situation, should be the only one struggling to think straight. 

"I know this is weird…” Sungjin spoke, cutting through his thoughts. The hand behind his neck betrayed his trepidation, yet he was looking square into Wonpil’s eyes. 

“Uhm…” Wonpil helplessly uttered, anxiously peering around him.

“I know this is weird,” he repeated softly, his eyes actually shining, “but I find you really cute and I couldn't get you out of my mind since that day.”

What day? Wonpil forgot about it all because he saw Sungjin everyday, except many of those times most likely were unbeknownst to him. Wonpil’s eyes flickered back and forth, his hands were trembling. “Thank, thank you.”

That was pathetic, but regardless, it seemed to be Sungjin’s saving grace. “I'm… I'm not normally into guys, ok? I'm wondering if you wanted to try this out…"

Wonpil could have sworn his heart stopped beating for three seconds straight. How was he not dead yet?

"Woah… I…" he said breathlessly. It felt like he had just finished running a marathon. 

"Let's get to know each other. Here, I’ll give you my number. Text me." Sungjin sucked in a breath, visibly

glad he said what he had to say. “Text me, ok?”

The rest of it remained a blur of colors and haze to him until he got home and changed into more comfortable clothes. He didn’t even remember giving a coherent answer, but judging from their peaceful separation, Wonpil’s awed face must have served for a green light to Sungjin. 

Today was Jae’s sister’s birthday, so Wonpil used the five minute walk over to weigh his options. His brother was being a nuisance to his mental health so he willed himself to walk farther than him and leave him behind. 

Suddenly, as he became more conscious of the nuance of Sungjin’s word choices, he began to frown. But since it was somebody else’s happy day, Wonpil wasn’t about to ruin it with his sour mood. 

The dinner went sailing smooth like every year. They had the usual seaweed soup and Jae’s sister’s favorite fruit cake. Jae’s parents wrapped everything up by handing her their gift once no trace of cake was left, because Wonpil’s brother ate for three and fruit cake also happened to be his best friend. 

And, like every year, Jae’s sister’s gift was a brand new phone, the latest model too. Then, Jae, Wonpil and Wonpil’s brother helped clean while Jae’s sister flew upstairs to get ready to go clubbing. And since Jae’s sister’s friends would later come to raid their entire bathroom and half of Jae’s room, Jae and Wonpil would go sit in the backyard and curse Jae’s sister’s age that permitted her to go clubbing. 

Wonpil’s brother had been shooed back home. He had a stack of homework to be done anyway, so Wonpil felt no remorse about essentially kicking him out of a place that wasn’t even his. Jae brought his guitar, and Wonpil was wearing his bad mood pretty deliberately now that he wasn’t obligated to look happy for anyone anymore. 

Jae sensed it, he was sure of it. Wonpil saw him fishing something out of his pocket and threw it in Wonpil’s lap. It was solid and it hit his knee and Wonpil doubled in pain for two minutes while Jae profusely apologized for being exhilarated at his misery. 

“What’s this?” Wonpil asked, inspecting the object while Jae smoothed a thumb over his knee. 

“Are you blind? It’s a phone.”

“Uh thanks, but what am I supposed to do with it?” Wonpil looked at Jae, Jae blinked at him. He opened his mouth, clearly about to say something insulting, before he thought against it.

“I’m giving it to you.” 

“You’re giving it to me?”

“Did I not just say that? Do you have hearing disabilities?” 

“This is your  _ sister’s _ phone,” Wonpil emphasized. It apparently amused Jae because he was biting back a laugh, and he was very ugly when doing so. At least Wonpil knew now that his resting bitch face wasn’t some sort of chronic disease. 

“This is my sister’s  _ old _ phone. And I asked her if I could give it to you.”

Wonpil felt his chest warm. “You really did that? It’s not even  _ my _ birthday.” 

“Yeah well, I’m tired of calling your home number and constantly having to wait for your slow ass to pick up the phone. At least, you’ll have it with you all the time now, right?”

“Right! Thank you so much hyung!” Just as Wonpil lurched in for a hug, Jae backed away and used his guitar as a shield. They roughhoused for a bit until they ended up in a position where, strangely, Wonpil was snared in Jae’s lopsided embrace. 

The first thing Wonpil did with his newly obtained possession was snap a picture of Jae. He playfully swatted at him before they settled together to take a proper photo of themselves. 

“Are you gonna tell me about that ten foot pole stuck up your ass now?” Jae’s voice streamed directly down Wonpil’s ear, it was raspy and it was all that Wonpil hated to love. 

“What ten foot pole?”

“Stop,” Jae gently flicked his forehead, “pretending like it’s not there, at least not in my presence.” 

Wonpil sighed and turned to his side on the grass in a way that had his back facing Jae. It was supposed to block Jae’s face from his sight to make him feel better about his whole situation, but that only subjected him to Jae’s even breath spilling into his neck, and the steady rise and fall of his chest against his back. Jae’s slim fingers dug into his side and Wonpil yelped.

“The fuck was that for, you jerk?”

“Come on, tell me.”

Wonpil sighed, closed his eyes and blinked them open again. Maybe it was alright to say it.

"He asked me out,” Wonpil confessed, feeling his throat parch when Jae’s arm, perched on his waist, stiffened. 

“Who did?” his voice was monotonous.

“Sungjin hyung…” Wonpil felt like he was committing treason towards Jae by disclosing this information that he himself had no clue how to deal with. 

The silence that ensued was surrounded by the faint chants of cicadas. That lasted approximately a minute that had the impression of twenty before Jae, more lifelessly than quietly, spoke, "that’s awesome dude."

"No it's not!” Wonpil sprung up into a sitting position, which prompted Jae to emulate his action. He casually picked up his guitar and barely spared Wonpil another glance. “Hyung, do you even take this seriously right now?"

"I mean, you literally bent a guy's sexuality,” Jae shrugged, eyes focused on the instrument as he tested the strings.

"I did not, he's not sure yet. He wants to  _ try _ . He said he wants to try.” Wonpil was getting agitated. Mostly, it stemmed from Jae angling away from him and acting as though this mattered very little to the world. It probably was true, but it mattered to Wonpil.

"Then try, smartass. What are so worked up over?"

"Don't you get it? I don't want to be some lab rat or something, I don't want some love equation tested on me."

Jae stopped in the middle of his stroking his guitar and stared him in the eye, the movement so abrupt that Wonpil almost startled. His heart was beating in his throat.

"Then why did you accept?"

The silence returned as they engaged in a staring contest, only with Jae being dead serious and Wonpil half cowering under his pinning glower. 

Tentatively, Wonpil retorted, "I don’t… it's not fair for you to say this, you have Jenifer."

"It's Juniper,” Jae mumbled, going back to strumming his guitar.

"Whatever, Jupiter,” Wonpil sulked, ignoring the way Jae looked back up at him. His cold-blooded resting bitch face resurfaced, and it were times like this that Wonpil wanted to slap it to nonexistence. 

"Don't pretend like you don't have options, Pil."

"What?" he frowned. The ringing of a phone sliced through their conversation and Jae made haste of his search for his phone. He briefly examined the screen when it was within his grip.

"Oh, Juniper's calling on my cell. I gotta pick up.” For a second, Wonpil thought he saw relief momentarily flash upon Jae’s face. 

“Ok. I’ll get going now.” Wonpil got up, dusted himself and began to walk. “See you tomorrow hyung. Thanks so much for the phone.” 

“See you,” Jae’s voice behind him was but a whiff of something that he usually said with confidence. 

Wonpil ought to think lightly of it, or his mind might wander to places where he had long forbiddened it to go lest unwanted reminders flourish back to life. 

The house was already dark and cold when he got back. The lights in his brother’s room were also dimmed. Wonpil freshened himself as fast and as efficiently as he could before silently trudging to his room and dissolving into his bedsheets. 

It came to no surprise to him that he was more than simply tired. The day had been both eventful and overwhelming, other than that, it was a little unkind to him. Despite everything, nothing deterred him from going to bed with a smidgen of positivity. In fact, the phone weighing in his hand was the memento of why he should be happy. 

He didn’t think he’d make much use of the phone he’d unexpectedly acquired, but in this moment, Wonpil had never been more grateful for the timing. He pulled out the torn piece of paper Sungjin had given him earlier and saved his number under a simple, glaring red heart.

_ tell me when you’re free and let’s go out! _

Why did Wonpil accept? Because it was an easy way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m doing my best to keep the updates consistent! while these chapters aren’t much of a chore to write, i’m drowning in school work and finals are also soon /sobs uncontrollably
> 
> nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed?


	5. Offset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Jae, simply by existing, can act as an offset to all of Wonpil's efforts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you have no idea how much i'm dying to write younghyun's part but that's in a while crii
> 
> as usual, thank you so much for your lovely support!

It was with a little difficulty that Wonpil got himself attuned to the twists and turns of his phone, though it wasn’t without a little prod on Jae’s part. Wonpil looked like he’d time traveled straight from the Middle Ages with the way he struggled to get a grasp of all the functions, and of course, Jae couldn’t shut up about his frustration towards his total ineptitude at understanding basic concepts. 

But they were in chemistry class and their teacher had given them enough separation warnings as it was, so instead of outwardly expressing how close he was to strangle Wonpil, Jae snatched the phone out of his loose grip and did whatever 21st century manipulations were required to download a game. 

Wonpil dumbly watched as the phone was placed back between his fingers, a game displayed at the ready. Jae flicked his hair out of his face and stared ahead at the board, evincing his current disinterest in talking to Wonpil.

For the better half of their two hour class, Wonpil’s eyes never abandoned his screen. The fact that they weren’t particularly serious students combined with their seat placement at the very back of the classroom only made it easier for him. He knew he could trust Jae as far as games were concerned. 

It was only when Jae nudged his elbow that Wonpil’s concentration snapped and his character crashed into a wall and promptly died. And it was for that sole reason that Wonpil looked up to glare at the cause of his defeat. Jae, on the other hand, didn’t betray even the bat of an eye. He pointed at Wonpil’s phone.

“Your battery’s gonna die,” he explained.

“Does it look like I care?” Wonpil huffed as he started a new game, not before surreptitiously glancing at his teacher. Thankfully, she had her back turned to the rest of the class as she seemed to be occupied by a mistake only people with her patience would bother dwelling over. 

“I didn’t give you a phone for you to drain it of its battery.”

“Well, that’s what it was made for.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well now it is.”

Jae pinched his nose bridge. “I mainly gave it to you so I can stop calling your house, or your mom. Or when you get lost on your way to that grocery store, you’ll stop asking for some stranger’s phone, y’know? Not for you to waste its crucial purpose by playing a stupid game I downloaded to shut you up.”

“Well maybe you should have thought better. And it’s not like I have anywhere to be after school, I can just go home and charge it up,” Wonpil shrugged, immersing himself into the game once again.

It seemed that Jae’s stubbornness wouldn’t let that happen as conveniently. He inched in to avoid getting heard by the teacher and spoke evenly, “didn’t you say you were gonna tag along with Juniper and me?”

“What?” Wonpil frowned. The mere idea of seeing Jae with anyone but himself was suffocating enough. Not in a thousand years would he go to such drastic lengths, even if it was meant to do him a service. “When have I ever agreed to that?”

Jae’s eyes surrendered to his incurable muscle spasm. “Literally yesterday night.”

“Where are you guys going anyway?”  
  
“Juniper wanted to get ice cream at her favorite shop or something. I don’t even like ice cream,” he deadpanned. Wonpil felt his stomach churn, and it wasn’t at the thought of ice cream. He wasn’t aware of how quiet he’d become, but Jae seemed to have been expecting some sort of response, which he was unable to provide. “So you coming or nah?”

“You’re basically inviting me to be your third wheel, and asking me if I’m game? Gimme a break,” Wonpil rolled his eyes.

If truth be told, Wonpil didn’t think he was prepared to experience firsthand what it was like to watch two people kissing each other while the space beside him was cold and empty. Especially as long as Jae was one of the two. 

“No I’m not, I want you to come too,” Jae said flatly, as though whether or not Wonpil decided to come didn’t matter. 

“No thanks, next time maybe,” he lied. It was deliberate, and Wonpil figured that Jae had caught on to it. His sigh told his decision not to linger on it more than it was necessary. Soon, Jae went back to paying attention to their next assignment.

They didn’t say much after that, and Wonpil felt mildly bad. He usually wasn’t the type to reject anyone’s request, essentially because he was conscious of the bitter taste it carved. But aside from Jae being a friend so close that they didn’t need filters to communicate anymore, Wonpil had the integrity to prioritize himself from time to time. 

For the remainder of class, Wonpil pertained to his game and only peered through his bangs to check that the teacher was still absorbed in her meticulous ways of teaching. 

When the bell rang, Wonpil shoved his phone into his pocket and swiped his belongings on the table into his backpack. Anything could have fallen and left unaccounted for with how lazily he zipped his bag, but even if it was the case, it would wind up being the least of his troubles right now. 

In his peripheral vision, Jae was taking his time slipping his things into his bag, his face typically as inexpressive. 

“See ya hyung,” Wonpil called. Jae looked up, as though breaking from a trance, and pulled up a palm in the classic means of bidding goodbye. 

“Bye,” he replied, going back to closing his folder. 

In reality, Wonpil had every intention to desert Jae and his ice cream escapade with his girlfriend, and it was in the good-natured interest of setting his mind straight once and for all and go out on that date with Sungjin that he’d been putting off for ages. 

At any rate, it was bound to happen, because Wonpil was growing increasingly weak for his eyes and his sanity threatened to buckle under the weight of his semi-loneliness. He didn’t think he had it in him to hopelessly dwindle around Jae for the rest of his life. 

Sungjin was waiting for him at the school gates, though his gaze seemed to be wandering everywhere but towards him. If Wonpil was going to be honest with the world, he wasn’t psyched up for this kind of predisposition at all. He expected Sungjin to give up on his sexuality project as soon as Wonpil accepted his proposal. 

“Hyung, let’s go!” Wonpil jumped to his side, smiling ear-to-ear. 

“Oh!” Sungjin clutched at his chest, laughing lightly to clear his surprise. “So sudden? You came out of thin air.” 

Wonpil cackled stupidly at that, and quickly after Sungjin menaced his heart-rate with his sparkling eyes, they began walking in the direction which Sungjin was fully in control of. On the way, he spoke of a really cozy and cheap food place with the world’s softest ramen noodles, conveniently placed next to a mall with magical fairy lights that he was sure Wonpil would instantly fall in love with. He wasn’t wrong. 

In fact, not even a description with perfect syntax and grammar would do this place justice. The streets were littered with fairy lights and aglow paper lanterns of various shades, predominantly golden. They illuminated the now darkening concrete with strips of glittering colors. 

The magical path lent itself to a mall that loomed tall in the distance, and even when they stopped at the food place that Sungjin was noticeably excited about, Wonpil couldn’t look away even if he tried. The scenery looked like it was cleaved off the most cheesy Hollywood movie. 

Sungjin dragged him to a metal table and sat him on a metal stool, the surface on which the mesmerizing lights from outside bounced off. Wonpil let himself be treated to the most flavored ramen he’d ever tasted, and for a second, he thought of bringing Jae on a free occasion, but he dispelled that idea as fast as it materialized.

It was when Wonpil came to a complete realization that he was with Sungjin in this type of hypnotic environment that he counted himself luckier than the stars. Sungjin’s eyes, as he ate and talked about music with the enthusiasm of an American dad in a baseball match, was even prettier up close, especially with how they reflected the strings of fairy lights. 

They dawdled around the area after their meal, hand-in-hand, and Wonpil wouldn’t mind being a lab rat if Sungjin could warm his palm like this for a while. Wonpil’s legs ordinarily weren’t wired for these kinds of walks in loop until they passed by the same shop at least three times, until some fairy lights begin to flicker out, but he could adjust if it permitted a few extra minutes with Sungjin. 

In some ways, it felt awfully wrong. Many times, Wonpil caught himself in the dishonesty of pretending all of it was happening with Jae, especially when he would nuzzle in the warm crook of Sungjin’s neck and couldn’t see his face. Sungjin’s deodorant smelled just like the expensive perfume Jae wasted all of his savings on, and it was mocking Wonpil’s efforts at eloping his tragic crush. 

By the time Sungjin lugged the whole of Wonpil’s exhausted body home, he was suddenly alarmed by how late it was. The sky had been dark for a long, long while now, he figured it might be nearing midnight. The life of Seoul was perennial, it kept going, so determining the time by the vivacity of the area was virtually pointless. 

As surprised as he was, he wouldn’t allow anything to kill the romance that was blossoming between Sungjin and him. They came to a standstill just around the proximity of Wonpil’s house, and it was clearly, painstakingly suggesting to something greater, something that would decidedly seal their relationship and sweeten all of his existing delights. 

“I’m glad you were willing to try this with me. I couldn’t have asked for anyone else to come with me today,” Sungjin said quietly in the cold night, holding both his hands by the simple hook of his fingers. 

“I’m glad, too,” Wonpil responded just as quietly, feeling his heart throb in his chest. 

Sungjin’s face seemed to be getting closer, and from the social cues of romance that Wonpil had learned from the soap operas his mother watched everyday, he closed his eyes and let himself be pulled forth. 

Their lips were a breadth away from meeting, so close that Wonpil for once in his life wondered if the hot air spilling on his lips was his own or not. His heart was beating at a terrorizing rate, threatening to implode on itself. He was about to have his first kiss stolen, an imperative moment he had always dreamed of, when something gripped his upper arm and yanked him apart.

He gasped at the forceful pull, and the remaining breath in his lungs died at the emergence of Jae’s face. 

“Yo, Pil, seriously fuck you.”

“Jae?” Wonpil couldn’t budge from the hold Jae had on him. The look he had on his face could effortlessly be described as murderous. “What on earth are you doing in front of my house?”

“Your mom is worried _ sick _, you twat, hurry and get your ass home,” Jae said through gritted teeth, briefly glaring at Sungjin. Wonpil inspected the latter’s face as well, and could tell his severe discomfort through his twisted lips. The air was completely soundless. Wonpil’s knees were at the brink of folding. 

“Ok,” Sungjin spoke first, placing a quick pat on Wonpil’s back and pursing his lips. He hardly dared cast a look in Jae’s general vicinity. “Bye Wonpil, tonight was nice. Let’s do it again some other time.”

Wonpil itched to scream out a prayer that this would not ward Sungjin out from identical opportunities of tonight, but opted against furthering his embarrassment. Feeling like a puppy being reprimanded by its owner, he quietly answered, “bye hyung, see you at school.” 

Jae’s irritation was spelled-out, and he made it better known with a tug at his arm. It was also effective in bringing Wonpil’s attention back on the tight grip, sure to leave marks in its wake. Wonpil saw the momentary face filled with antipathy Jae made at Sungjin’s retreating back before his eyes snapped back to him from behind his round glasses. 

And to think that this entire night had been mentally spent with the person currently crushing the bone in his arm...

“Are you nuts? Do you know what time it is you dumbass?” 

“Let go of my arm Jae,” Wonpil snarled unashamedly now that there was nobody to assist to their developing bout. 

“Where were you?” Jae ignored him. 

“Let go first.”

“I asked you something. Answer.”

“Chill, I was at some noodle place, it’s not a big deal. Stop acting like he molested me or something,” Wonpil grounded his jaw, attempting to jerk his arm out of Jae’s hand. 

Jae compressed his grasp around his upper arm, a thing Wonpil thought impossible. “Your mom called me to know where you were, because your stupid ass still wasn’t where it was supposed to be after nine. Nobody knew where you were. I gave you a fucking cell. Why do you think I gave you a cell?!”

“Jae let go!” With all the strength he had in him to gather, Wonpil wrenched his arm out of Jae’s steel grip. He rubbed the pulsing area with his hand. “It fucking hurts,” he mumbled.

Jae stepped forward. "If you think having a boyfriend gives you the liberty to do whatever the fuck you want, then you're wrong Pil. It's wrong. Where's your phone?"

Judging by the direction their argument was taking, Wonpil thought better of exacerbating what was already damaged, precisely referring to his heart. Jae knew that Wonpil was sensitive, and was openly, in his miasma of anger, trying to guilt-trip him by making him feel his own tears. So Wonpil murmured in response, “it died.”

Jae’s face instantly morphed into a deeper frown. "Of course it did, instead of using it correctly, all you did was waste its battery in that class when clearly you knew you had to be somewhere. And you lied to me. You said you were going home after class. Why are you hiding? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“_ Stop _ exaggerating, hyung, _ please. _What are you, a cop? Sixty? Get a grip, I was only with Sungjin hyung.”

“Uh huh, ok. Then why did you not use your little boyfriend's phone to call someone or, I don't know, do something to warn your mom? We all thought you were kidnapped or, worse—"

"I get it! Geez." 

“No you don’t!” Jae yelled. It had Wonpil stunned as it echoed into the horizon. “You don’t get it, you were so quick to leave your seat today you never realized three of your books fell from your bag. I try to call you only to find out it’s turned off or some shit, and figured it was fine since you live right next to my house, but no! It’s not fucking fine. How dumb can you fucking be?”

“I’m not dumb. _ You’re _the dumbfuck. You’re the dumbfuck because everything is fine and Sungjin hyung was just taking me out to have a good time, and maybe you should also learn to have a good time you uptight grandpa.”

“You suck at insulting me.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s incredible how irresponsible a person can be. I mean, it’s common sense that you should check the time or call someone but the neurons in your brain are too lacking to freaking compute that! All there is to you these days is Sungjin this, Sungjin that. Do you know how annoying it is?”

“I…” Wonpil stammered, rendered speechless.

Jae crossed his arms. Wonpil had no idea what meaningless issue compelled Jae to be irritable to this extent. "Anything could have happened, Pil."

"Ok hyung, I won't do it again,” he mumbled and shouldered past Jae to get to his house. His door shut out the nipping night air and erased Jae out of all possible sight. All that was left to do now was vanish in his covers and close his eyes, and then he would be miles away from this disaster. And maybe think of a way to apologize to his mother tomorrow. 

Before Wonpil could go up the stairs to his room, he noticed the light overflowing from the kitchen in the otherwise dark house. Perhaps he had to think faster.

He approached the kitchen, and the sight before him broke his heart. His mom was sat at the table, in the company of a lone glass of red wine. Her back was facing Wonpil, and he regretfully watched her shoulders shake. 

Then, unexpectedly, a laugh ripped out of her throat, and soon, she was slapping a hand on her knee and choking onto the happiest giggle Wonpil had ever heard. To say he was confused wouldn’t be enough to credit his state of mind.

“Mom?” he tried.

His mom’s laughter stopped, but only reluctantly, as she turned to examine her son. “Oh, you home sweetheart?” Her laugh still poured out in tiny fragments of coughs. “C’mere.”

Beyond puzzled, Wonpil made his way to her and stayed compliant even when she pinched his ear and dragged him down to kiss his cheek. 

“Were you waiting for me?” Wonpil asked. Before him, his mom was watching some Facebook compilation video with teary eyes induced by her laughter that truthfully sounded more like an odd variety of asphyxiation.

“Huh? Oh no, I was watching this while your brother did his homework,” she responded, drying the mist from her eyes and catching her breath. Wonpil scratched his head. Knowing his brother, he had probably gone to sleep a solid two hours before, so with this, he swimmingly came to the conclusion that his mother was a little more than tipsy. 

Another throaty laugh boiled from her mouth. Wonpil looked at her. “Look at this dog Pillie! It fell on its face!”

“Oh, haha,” Wonpil winced, “ok goodnight mom.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

In his bed, showered and unconcerned about the wet tips of his hair, Wonpil found himself in a routine far too familiar: staring at his ceiling. He wondered what the underlying meaning of today was, be it his date with Sungjin, or his fight with Jae, or the events that it lead to, or the truths and lies that had unraveled.

In the end, for the sake of commending his own endeavors, Wonpil chose to ignore it and go to sleep. 

The stripes of fairy lights were stuck behind his lid, and in his small, twisted understanding, Wonpil hoped it to be a path to some sort of resolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter!!
> 
> see you in the next teehee <3


	6. The beginning of a cycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonpil wonders if he's cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) today's my birthday so i wanted to write a little thing for y'all hehe
> 
> 2) i forgot to mention that jae, wonpil and sungjin are still around 16 years old, give or take
> 
> 3) i wrote this whole chapter with eminem's we made you playing in the background, it was an interesting experience (i don't care what my friends say, but i freaking love eminem)
> 
> 4) thank you all for the sweet comments in the last chapter <3 like!! it makes me really happy!!

It had already been a few weeks of what was supposed to be the grand ticket to the apex of euphoria for Wonpil, but all that Sungjin had (involuntarily) given him, in the end, was more contrast material in regards of Jae. 

It of course didn’t mean that the feelings of love and admiration were totally defunct if not for his Jae-centered imagination. In fact, he had never been good at setting his emotions into some sort of distinct coordination, but he at least knew that when that was the case, it usually indicated that he immensely  _ felt  _ for this man. 

The issue was, on a large spectrum, Wonpil’s feelings were stronger for Jae.

In recent times, he had been practically forced to the conclusion that he disliked Juniper for reasons that had a lot to do with himself. That lead him to one of two things: either he resorted to outright disappearance because seeing Jae laugh at her stupid feminist jokes annoyed the wits out of him, or he would continually drag Jae to watch lame movies with him and leave little to no free time for Juniper to appropriate as her  _ quality time with boyfriend.  _

And when he quite literally gave Jae the runaround, the only place left for him to evade to was straight within Sungjin’s open arms. If he were to decide whether it was a good thing or not, Wonpil would be unable to answer. 

On the one hand, it was warm and filled with mutual fondness, and Wonpil found himself so engrossed in Sungjin’s gleaming eyes that the reality surrounding him was no longer relevant to him. On the other hand, Wonpil could never forget a hundred percent, especially when the biggest bane of his life lived right next to his door, that he was still very much in love with Jae. And spending time with Sungjin was an insulting, grinding reminder of that. 

Sungjin played the guitar and sang to Wonpil, if that wasn’t an obvious similarity he shared with Jae. They both seemed to derive pleasure in flicking his forehead and watching him endure a meltdown over his homework. But they were also extremely caring in their own individual ways, and because it was a thing that rarely occurred for the both of them, the treatment felt special. 

But some things were drastically different. Jae’s hugs were bony, and Sungjin’s were hardly secure because of his reserved stiffness. Even things of no consequence had the power to magnify every little detail, like the way Jae’s thin fingers were rather light on his skin, but Sungjin’s square hands were unintentionally heavier, that was, when he did tentatively touch him. 

Wonpil, for the sake of whipping a conclusion that did not involve him begging the heavens for Jae to return his feelings, gave it his best effort to repress thoughts about how he’d ended up where he currently was. They were there regardless, the thoughts, bringing him back to the stinging reminder that if he was given a choice in the first place, he wouldn’t be here, despairing for two people to love him back. Namely Jae and Sungjin. 

Yes, love him  _ back,  _ because not very long after that wonderful first date (followed by a few other), Sungjin decided to terminate their three week long relationship.

“Sorry Pillie,” Sungjin said, rubbing the back of his neck. It was done in a mirroring manner as when he’d confessed his attraction for the first time, but reminiscing of that only made his blood run cold. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for, hyung,” Wonpil smiled at him, by some means not as hurt as he had been expecting when Sungjin forwarded him the message containing an ominous  _ hey, can we talk? _

Sungjin conspicuously struggled to find the suitable words to dull the blow that was about to slap Wonpil in the face, so he waited patiently if only to avoid getting hurt. 

“I tried…” Sungjin licked his lips and laughed bitterly. “I tried to like you the way you want me to, but… I’m so sorry, it just wasn’t…. there.”

_ What wasn’t there? _ Wonpil desperately wanted to ask. It might be clear coming from the brain that came up with it, but he found it nonsensical. So was it not there in the first place? Did Sungjin force it? For what reason? Was this really some love experiment? 

In any case, he couldn’t hold Sungjin accountable for anything. Sungjin wasn’t responsible for his happiness, nor should he force the birth of an impossible love. If this meant anything, it was that Sungjin decidedly wasn’t into boys. 

Wonpil widened his smile to assure Sungjin of its existence. “I understand hyung, it’s ok.”

That only seemed to severe the knots of guilt between Sungjin’s brows. “Truly. I’m truly sorry. I just don’t think we should be together.”

“I guess,” Wonpil sighed, not once loosening his smile. His cheeks were beginning to turn sore. “I wonder if anything like that’ll ever happen anyway,” he proceeded to mumble as he looked down at the tips of his converse. 

“Don’t worry,” a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Sungjin’s alit eyes, “I’m positive it will. Plus, those love letters keep coming in, yeah? Someone out there really likes you. The way that I can’t.” Sungjin looked nothing short of sympathetic, a face Wonpil decided that he hated. Did he give off the impression of hopelessness and desperation that badly? God he was pathetic.

Ironically, Wonpil had dreamed of those exact same words, only the face that uttered them took the familiar skinny shape with nerdy round glasses atop the nose. Wonpil was ready to ship himself off the earth and find love on another planet, maybe that would work out better for him.

Despite himself, when he walked away from Sungjin with his hands warmed in his pockets and his gaze trailing on the ground, the hurt was instantly lifted and left a gaping void in him. He hated that it was much the same as relief. He felt like he was letting Sungjin down by being the one to date him, anyway, so might as well cut out the worry. 

The next day, Wonpil told himself that he couldn’t be blamed if he wanted to treat himself after his most recent tragedy. After all, he still somewhat fell under Sungjin’s inescapable charms. It was like a mandatory period in any Sungjin-frequenter’s life, sort of like a One Direction phase. Wonpil wouldn’t be surprised if Sungjin had his whole neighborhood lined up before him, and he considered himself lucky enough to have lasted three weeks with him. As a boy, or to put it bluntly, as something that challenged Sungjin’s sexual orientation. 

He’d told Jae to meet him at the local fair, but for the time being, Wonpil was on his own, sat on a sequestered bench, abandoned to silently wallow in his thoughts. It went without saying that he felt like absolute shit, even if he’d just described himself as relieved of a burden, but getting dumped because he wasn’t born with the appropriate genital was still a shot to his self-esteem to a certain extent. 

Though his eyes were drilled into the ground where dried leaves were shivering in the curling wind, he could spot Jae’s tattered vans scurrying towards him after an hour of waiting. He didn’t budge.

“Sorry,” Jae said with a mild hint of urgency, sounding out of breath, “Juniper took forever to get ready this morning, I needed to drive her to the mall and I can’t even begin to tell you how crazy it was. There were people  _ everywhere  _ and I didn’t think I’d ever make it here today, but still, I’m— hey Pil, you ok?”

On cue, Wonpil got to his feet, and with the motion, something wet fell on his hand. It slowly slid down to the tip of his index. 

“Pil?” Jae whipped out a hand to take a hold of his arm.

“I’m fine,” Wonpil jerked out of the touch, swiping at his moist eyes with his wrist and sniffling. “Don’t grab my arm please.”

“Yo, are you crying?” Jae tried to level his eyes with his, but the flush of shame lurking in his ears compelled Wonpil to keep his head lowered. “Pil? Hey, look at me?” Jae wasn’t the type to let anything go against what he desired, so whether Wonpil felt like it or not, he hooked a finger under his chin and tugged his head up. His face was revealed, and Wonpil could only imagine it to be red and swollen. 

“What’s the matter?” From behind the round glasses, Jae’s eyes wandered around his face. 

Something bubbled in Wonpil’s throat, and he had to sew his lips shut to stop himself from sobbing hysterically. He willed himself to breathe slowly. “Sungjin hyung broke up with me.”

For a quiet moment, the life of the fair still playing behind them, Jae searched his bloated crying face, not saying a thing. Swiftly, he wrapped Wonpil in his embrace and gently stroked his hair. Their height difference made it that Wonpil’s face was pressed against Jae’s bony chest. He bitterly noted that Sungjin’s was more filled out, but it no longer mattered.

Wonpil reluctantly pulled his leaden arms to lace them around Jae’s thin figure, and eventually caved in to the wave of sadness that threatened to drown him. It coerced him to cry harder at his pathetic state, feeling Jae’s shirt gathering more of his tears.

The perfume Jae chose to wear today ludicrously matched Sungjin’s deodorant. It had made him laugh at first, but now he didn’t know who he liked it on better, and he was beginning to grow scared of the answer because it was only confirming that he’d never free himself from Jae’s spell. 

Today was supposed to serve as a break from everything overwhelming, but today instead served as an unwarranted magnet between Jae and Wonpil. He was hyperaware that every single part of their body was touching, and it was a far cry from what Wonpil needed right now. 

Luckily for him, Wonpil was blessed with an optimistic approach to life. Once his tears cleared and Jae brought him to a ride, he quietly told himself that one day, it’ll all be over, and all he had to do now was look forward to that day and do anything in his might to speed towards it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i never meant to make this chapter so depressing and short, but it's more of a transition than anything tbh... someone's coming to pillie's rescue!
> 
> (i was serious when i said i loved eminem lolol, it's to an extent where i got inspiration for another jaepil /screams)


	7. Dowoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank all of you who commented for the birthday wishes! honestly such a nice birthday gift <3
> 
> this story is slowly becoming angsty so i tried to balance it with some sort of silly narration a bit hm hm i hope it worked!
> 
> you can probably tell i don't ship sungpil all that much, i'm sorry :(
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Wonpil woke up with a subdued ache pounding in tandem with his heart. There was a strange feeling he could barely pinpoint lurking in the back of his head. It inexplicably made him want to dunk his entire head in water and scrape clean all the images of Sungjin’s smile so he could sleep without balling his hands in his blanket and curling his toes in shame. 

He shifted to his side, tugging the blanket to his lips, and exhaled the debris of sleep through his nose. He decided that the strange feeling wasn’t quite to rid himself of every single faint dent Sungjin had left in his short time of welcome. Wonpil was happy enough to esteem himself over the whole trainwreck. 

The strange feeling soon made itself clear in the form of the time on his clock which plainly established his total tardiness. Wonpil was supposed to be in class forty minutes ago, but here he was, glaring at his phone in disbelief before shooting out of bed and pratfalling in the shower because he’d been too eager to reach for the soap. 

This morning was the greatest defiance to one of the principles. He was never late, had never been even on his shittiest days, not even when he learned that Jae was struggling with consciousness after being socked in the face by one of his soccer teammates the night before. (That obviously marked the end of soccer for Jae, especially when he had to live through the hell of going to school without his glasses for days.)

The memory was awfully out of place as Wonpil was sprinting to school like his ass had been set on fire, the sweat pooling in his collar feeling irritatingly similar to a second shower. 

Wonpil had never known he was this good at running until the school slowly crawled in his sight and he managed to speed up his pace until it nearly matched the cars passing on the road. 

Finally breaching the school gates, he dashed straight towards his locker and almost nose-dived to the ground with how fast he rounded the corner. 

But it seemed that the velocity which controlled his feet wasn’t what would make him eat the floor and nearly dislocate his shoulder. It was the sight of Jae in front of his locker, slipping a piece of paper in between the cracks like the world’s sneakiest animal. 

The hallway became a blur of colors as Wonpil toppled to the ground, his palms slapping the ground sounding more painful than it was. There was no way on earth that Jae, most definitely within hearing proximity, would have missed that. In the next few seconds that followed, Wonpil gathered himself together and scrambled the rest of his way to Jae. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wonpil panted, struggling to regulate his breathing. In fact, his mind was so incompetent for the moment that he failed to compute the situation which he suddenly found himself in. 

Jae stood there unmoving, his hand draped in the air. Wonpil blinked once, twice, making sure he wasn’t just pointlessly staring at a picture. 

They lapsed into a few seconds of contemplative silence during which Wonpil caught his breath and fully took in Jae’s posture. His eyes traced the sleeve of his uniform, to his wrist-cuff that wonderfully represented his edginess, to the slip of paper feebly pinched by his fingers. 

Wonpil’s heart died in his chest and his eyes widened twice their anatomical size. He pointed to the potential source of his progressive heart attack. 

“Hey hyung, what the hell?!” he frowned, causing Jae to startle out of his frozen lala-land and let go of the paper as though it’d burnt him. “What are you doing?!”

“Listen,” Jae put both hands in front of him, eyes as wide as Wonpil, “I can explain this, please just meet me after classes, alright? At the gates. Cool?”

“_ Not _cool, no! This is weird, just say what you’re up to hyung,” Wonpil said, crossing his arms. Beneath the castle of limbs in front of his chest, his heart was pounding so hard that death didn’t sound so impossible and far-flung as it normally did.

“Trust me Pil, after classes today.”

“I can’t, Jae! Have you been pranking me all along?” It was just slightly sad that that was the first and only thing that materialized as an option. 

“I can’t, I really can’t,” Jae bent down to pick up the discarded piece of paper. All grace deserted him the moment he shoved it into Wonpil’s locker like he hadn’t tried to glide it in with the precision of a surgeon just a few instants ago. Wonpil watched him do it with his jaw unhinged, brows knitted. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Wonpil quickly asked as Jae adjusted the strap of his backpack, dropping ominous signs that he was leaving him with more questions than answers. Thinking back to when Jae got injured by that soccer player years ago, Wonpil thought he could understand the impulse to sock him right in his glasses to some degree.

Jae pursed his lips, not letting a word slip past them, moonwalking towards the staircase.

“Yo, what the hell? You can’t just leave like that!” Wonpil took a step forth.

“Just trust me! I promise you won’t be disappointed!” Jae yelled back, striding up the stairs and not sparing him one last glance, leaving Wonpil rooted in place, caught in gazing up where he disappeared. Never had he cared so little about being late.

Wonpil weathered through the day anxiously. The singular thing weighing on his mind was the image of Jae giving it the best of his abilities to slide that damned piece of paper in his locker as surreptitiously as his patience allowed him without leaving a trace that could unveil his operation. 

It also _ had _to happen on the day where they had absolutely zero shared classes. On the ordinary, they hardly even had any. Wonpil had never given it much thought or care, but from this day on, he would forever hold a grudge against tuesdays. Wonpil’s luck was known for its total absence.

At the very least, Wonpil did his level best not to hardcore brain-flex over Jae’s words because god knows he never invested much in his preferred vocabulary. But to promise Wonpil he wouldn’t be disappointed over this neck breaking plot-twist? It was like staring at a massive leap of faith and being unable to do a thing about it. 

Once the final bell rang, Wonpil wasted no time in whisking himself out of class and speed-walking towards his locker to find the letter among the mayhem of his belongings. 

He didn’t even unfold it to read it, just kept his head down as he recognized Sungjin’s face in the throng of students and openly avoided his friendly approach. He bound his gaze to the ground and pinned his hopes on guessing his way out of school until his old love’s voice faded. 

He began to run to the school gates, his backpack bouncing behind him. His heart hammered against his ribs when he spotted Jae already standing there, looking—dared he say—nervous. Thinking back to those minutes taking forever to dissolve, Wonpil found that the day was pretty short and uneventful. Or maybe Jae’s face was becoming such an eyesore. 

“Jae,” Wonpil said, snapping his friend out of his reverie. For the second time that day, Wonpil tried to even out his breathing not to give away his full-blown trepidation. His knees were shaking, so it was already a lost cause.

“Oh, Wonpil,” Jae responded. He seemed flustered himself, all awkward like they’d known each other for ten minutes instead of ten years. 

Wonpil didn’t want the hesitation to stop him from establishing everything he ever stood for, so he took a deep breath and released it with the remainder of his stress. “I have something to tell you hyung.”

“Wait Pil,” Jae had other plans though. He was looking for something, perhaps someone, beyond Wonpil’s shoulders, eyes flicking back and forth. “He’ll be here soon.”

Wonpil’s chest fastened in a way not quite the same as when he was hoping, _ wishing _, for the letters to be a product of Jae’s affections. “He?” he said weakly.

“Uh,” Jae glanced at him before going back to scanning the crowd behind. Wonpil couldn’t be bothered to follow his gaze. “Yeah, just wait a bit ok?”

“Oh, ok.” Never a taste this bland had bled onto Wonpil’s tongue. He was sure he’d rather eat a sponge than endure this flavor of befuddlement. 

They waited a moment longer before Wonpil watched Jae’s eyes expanding with that blinding glimmer of hope. Wonpil wanted to catch it, maybe caress it a bit before throwing it to the ground and stomping it. This was the cold truth where Jae was _ not _confessing to Wonpil and being hopeful about it. 

“There he is!” Jae exclaimed with what must be the most terrific relief that had ever graced him. 

Wonpil felt like a five year old sulking at the sound of Jae’s elated voice when he turned around, but just like that, an abrupt thunder struck him in the center of his chest as he watched the most good-looking person he’d ever laid his eyes on fixing up his glossy obsidian hair. 

He was trudging over with the most masculine stiffness latched on his back, and even if that was a stupid paradox in and of itself, Wonpil still found it amazing that such thing had its own physical manifestation that was currently making his way towards him in his glorious tall-ass-inches. 

His whole being was a paradox, actually. His eyes were sharp yet rounded with the gentleness of a child, his lips were the biggest threat of all of Wonpil’s wet dreams yet chapped in a lack of self-care. His legs went on forever, especially extending from those shorts, but the poor guy was so stiff he looked like he was having a rough time putting a foot in front of the other.

No matter how hot the guy was though, it did not deter Wonpil from his confusion. He swerved back to Jae. “Hyung, I still don’t understa—”

“Shut your face Pil, he’s coming.” 

“H-Hey…” sexy-two-shoes had a velvety deep voice, the irresistible resonance that had Wonpil standing on unstable ankles. He had colossal trouble meeting Wonpil’s eyes. 

“So kid, why don’t you tell Wonpil why you’re here?” Jae said, placing a hand on Wonpil’s shoulder. He tried his hardest not to shudder at this complicated situation. 

Instead of verbally answering, sexy-two-shoes sighed shakily and dipped his hand in his pocket, pulling back with it a bunch of paper. He held it with very little enthusiasm which made him look like he wanted to throw those letters in the nearest trash bin and run off in the horizon.

“I’m Dowoon,” he forced himself to utter just as Wonpil was beginning to think he really was going to bail into the sunset. “I’ve liked you for a while now,” he admitted, seeming like he was speaking to the ground rather than to Wonpil. 

“_ For a while _ is such a disgusting understatement. It’s been like, a year already,” Jae gave himself the leisure to elaborate. “Anyways, I’ve been writing these the past few months in Dowoon’s stead because he didn’t know which one was your locker.” Jae gestured to the pile of letters on Dowoon’s palm, which were swiftly placed back in his pocket. 

Jae was acting like Dowoon wasn’t standing right there, nervously laughing to himself. His face was so red Wonpil was afraid he might combust on the spot. 

Wonpil never realized he hadn’t yet said a word in response to anything that had been disclosed so far. Only when Dowoon tossed the fastest peek at him did Wonpil find himself smiling from the heart in a while. 

“Thank you so much,” he mumbled, growing timid himself. 

“I’m sorry if this is so sudden, it wasn’t supposed to pan out this way. Ah… Jae told me this morning that you—”

“No, it’s ok, it’s no problem. I just—”

  
“For fuck’s sake this is so awkward,” Jae slapped a hand over his eyes. “C’mon man!” he urged poor Dowoon who was as good as cooked at this point.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” asked Dowoon. For the first time since he appeared, he gaped square into Wonpil’s eyes, his own quaking with unsurety. Wonpil stared back for a moment’s hesitation, glancing at Jae in a beckon of help, but all Jae had to offer was a look split between sheer exasperation and screeching ardor. 

Wonpil didn’t want to refuse, but his heart was still pretty tender from hurt, sore from perpetual unreturned love. At the same time, he would be lying if he said a date with the nation’s hottest guy wasn’t tempting evey single neuron operating his brain. Wonpil was just about done with bad endings. 

Despite his smothering timidity, Dowoon’s devotion was straightened with confidence. If that wasn’t a promise of happiness with enough endurance…

“Yes,” Wonpil replied, sick of hesitation. Spontaneity was going to be his best friend counting from now.

“What? Really?” Dowoon seemed genuinely shocked, his gaze now stuck on Wonpil. 

“Great!” Jae clapped his hands. Wonpil had completely forgotten that he was there in the first place. “My job here is done.”

“Well... “ Dowoon said, patting the back of his neck. He’d retracted to his stiff reserved self. “See you on Saturday night, hyung.” 

“See you Dowoon,” Wonpil softly responded, uncertainly waving him goodbye, a newfound thrill chasing down his spine at the thought of Saturday night. 

Left in a tangled silence, they both stared after Dowoon for a moment, Wonpil in shock, and Jae with an unreadable expression painted on his face. 

Jae was the one to break their daze and the curtain of questions that loomed over their heads in the impression of a huge question mark. 

“Nice catch Pil. See! Isn’t this so much better?” Jae whacked his arm, the blow shoving him off balance. Wonpil stabilized himself and turned to glare at Jae for putting his life on the line before his face softened. He heaved a sigh of finality.

“He’s… so cute. How have you hidden this from me for so long?”

Jae shrugged. “Not my place to tell you this. It’s his job.”

“You gave it away for him anyway,” Wonpil said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting you to bust in the halls like that man, what made you _ that _late?”

“Overslept?” Wonpil frowned, not quite familiar with the answer himself.

“How the hell did that turn into a question?” Jae flicked his forehead before pulling him by the neck and ruffling his hair. “In any case, congratu-fucking-lation. You scored Yoon Awkward.” Even though Wonpil spent close to three backhanded seconds into his hair, he kicked at Jae’s groin for misplacing even a strand standing on his head. 

“Stop that you idiot, I’ll sock you like Jackson in grade seven,” Wonpil huffed his own laughter. 

“Try me!” 

To the guard hovering around the school gates and the students still wandering around the area, Jae and Wonpil might have all the appeal of two feral mammals wrestling for food with Wonpil already halfway onto Jae’s shoulders in a mediocre chokehold, but in their own world, they were just two friends who hardly gave a fuck about what kind of image they put out. 

And as they continued to wrestle their way back to Jae’s house where his controllers were waiting to be gripped and possibly smashed when Wonpil would put an end to Jae’s paramount gaming career, Wonpil couldn’t think of any day where he was closer to not one but several heart attacks than today. 

And as Wonpil got tired of drying his eyes out in front of Jae’s TV, he buried his nose in a book, the song of Jae’s game buzzing in the background, not really paying it the compulsory attention. It was then that he knew it was time to put a lid on the past, whether it be his brief but overwhelming course with Sungjin, or his inconsolable crush on the idiot, wrist-cuff-wearing nerd sitting right in front of him. Maybe Dowoon was the salvation god sent him as an answer to his desperate prayers. 

He let his eyes roam the expanse of Jae’s bony shoulders one last time, over the drape of his huge shirt, soaking in everything. 

Because this was the last time he’d ever see Jae through this love-sick filter. 

He hated that he sounded unconvincing even in his own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D:
> 
> frankly beginning to dislike every chapter i put out, but i'll keep pertain to this story because i cannot, for the life of me, give up on this project!


	8. A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonpil wants to look good on his date, and Jae helps him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the past few months have been insanely difficult for me to get through. but i'm back now, with this work! 
> 
> i was so angry at all the hate Lars Ulrich gets from even his own fans that i couldn't sleep til 4am, and that's when i thought of this fic, and went back to writing it. so yay? thanks Lars?
> 
> anyway, enjoy? :')

Late was simply something that Kim Wonpil rarely ever reduced himself to. Last time, his lousy punctuality availed to nothing beyond the heart-shattering reminder that Jae in fact would never bend his own laws of nature and slip stupid love notes in his locker out of his own free will. This time, nothing guaranteed that he wasn’t going to waste a date with this saint-like hotness with a face, and that would definitively crush all hopes he ever held for a balanced romantic life. 

In point of fact, Wonpil  _ was  _ late, or was going to be, undoubtedly, if he kept staring at the reflection of the scrawny dilapidated boy in his bathroom’s mirror like he had nowhere to be within less than an hour. 

“Oh my god what is wrong with me,” he groaned, opening the tap and filling his hands with water before splashing it to his face. He scrubbed it viciously, as if the right amount of strength would wipe the old him away and result in the acquisition of brand new facial features, ones which he could finally appreciate. 

Equal parts anxious and hopeless, Wonpil threw himself out of his bathroom and kicked a stray pair of pants out of his way, hysterically ransacking his bed in search of his phone. Biting his nails, he made swift work of dialing Jae’s number and pressing the device against his ears. 

In the middle of his pacing and the rings dragging  _ on  _ and  _ on,  _ he inadvertently came across his body-length mirror returning the same picture of the scrawny dilapidated boy from earlier. Without it, he’d have never remembered to put on pants. He grabbed a random pair from the floor and held it over him, before tossing it away with a whine of disgust. Maybe the problem was his shirt. Black surely had to be the safest color, but it shrank his proudest assets… 

As if commanded by god, Jae belatedly picked up. “Hey, wassup scatterbrain? Aren’t you going on your date or whatever?” 

The insult never suited Wonpil better. “Hyung!” he spluttered, flinging yet another pair of pants across his bed as if they were set alight. “Can you help me choose an outfit? I’m about to have a mental breakdown here. I got nothing to wear!” He lurched to his knees in front of his drawers, begging for  _ that  _ piece of clothing that went with everything to miraculously show up. 

“I’m playing Rainbow Six dude,” Jae answered, and only with the newfound awareness could Wonpil make out the tinny sounds of keys being competitively pressed. “Why don’t you ask your brother or something? You know, the  _ actual  _ people in your house?” he said it like Wonpil was the biggest petulance he’d had to deal with all year.

“Uh, ask a 14 year-old to help me? Or fashionably outdated parents?? Hyung, that’s social suicide.” He balanced his phone between his ear and shoulder, holding up a t-shirt he never recalled owning. Maybe it belonged to Jae. As he discarded it, he made sure it landed somewhere behind his bed where all the dust collected. 

“Either way,” Jae’s answer came a little late, likely caught up in his game, “you’re old enough to choose your own goddamn clothes, aren’t you? So hustle up buddy, it’s 5 and Dowoon expects you at 6.” 

Wonpil ignored how such information fell into Jae’s lap. Obviously, he had more pressing issues at hand. “And your old age should allow you to grow out of games already, yet here we are, hyung.” 

“What? You fucki-- you know what? Bye.”

“No wait hyung!” Wonpil scrambled to say, pushing himself off his knees and pitching himself towards his closet. “I’m sorry, please come over, I need help,” he almost pleaded.

“Just put on a white shirt and some black trousers,  _ bam _ , done. Stop thinking so much,” Jae grumbled. 

“It’s not that easy!” Wonpil retorted, throwing everything his hands could touch over his shoulders. He should probably take a look at them first, but he  _ was  _ a scatterbrain who knew nothing about order and priorities. “Oh my god Jae, I can’t find my belt. Can you bring me one on your way?” 

“No,” was his short reply. 

Wonpil abandoned his search and slumped over the floor of his closet, despaired about losing more than just a stupid belt. At this point, he could step out of his house in his striped pajamas and it wouldn’t make a difference. The ridicule would amount to the same. “Come on, please? Please hyung,” he said, casting a quick glance behind his shoulder only to apprehend with increasing anxiety the chaotic state of his bedroom. Even for the likes of him. “Pleaaaase, please hyung.”

“God,  _ ew,  _ stop making that voice,” Jae expressed his own despair. 

“Please?” Wonpil asked weakly, absolutely devastated. He heard a sigh on the other side as he dejectedly pinched a pair of black jeans and held it at eye-level, and then the creak of a leather computer chair. 

“Fine, fine. Hold up five minutes.” 

  
  


Five minutes later, Wonpil still hadn’t backpedaled in his rummaging, now crouched on the floor and shining a light under his bed. Maybe he’d accidentally booted something of great value under there somehow. The door squeaked open behind him, and the sound of rattling metal caught his staggering attention. 

“Jae!” he beamed, whirling his head to greet his friend with the most desperate of gratitude. The belt Wonpil had been trying to locate dangled from his feeble, thin hands. Jae’s face, though, betrayed the incredulity of a sleep-deprived cartoon character with his glasses slid to the tip of his nose and everything. 

“Here’s your fucking belt,” he grumbled, swinging it over his bed overflowing with clothes. 

“Oh god, thank fuck I haven’t lost it,” Wonpil said, running over to retrieve it. In the midst of sliding it into the loops of his pants, he failed to see Jae’s sweeping gaze over his attire. 

“You actually went for a white shirt and black trousers?” he blinked. The remark unsettled Wonpil, and he worriedly stopped cinching his belt if he would have to take off his pants again. 

“Why?” he asked, self-consciously checking out his backside over his shoulder, and then turning to the mirror. He examined himself, briefly glancing at Jae’s reflection standing behind him with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Is it not ok?” 

“The thing that’s not ok right now is you,” Jae’s reflection sighed, edging closer to him. Wonpil whipped around, expecting some sort of lecture. “You never ask for fashion advice. Especially from me.”

He was right. Wonpil really knew better than to beg for his secrets of edgy wrist-cuff fashion and the most trendy glasses of the season. He sighed, rotating his feet to once again face the mirror. “I guess I’m just nervous,” he huffed, sucking in his stomach so he could cinch his belt. “I’ve never been on a date before.”

“Yes you have,” Jae quipped, and disappeared from the mirror to cast aside the swarm of clothes on Wonpil’s bed. He sat down in an empty spot and glared at Wonpil. “With  _ that _ dude,” he clarified.

“Sungjin hyung?” Wonpil asked, turning around just in time to catch Jae rolling his eyes. “It’s… it’s different. It wasn’t legit,” he said, twisting his fingers. Jae ignored him, instead neutrally plucking at the clothes strewn around him. Surely, ‘nothing to wear’ in Wonpil’s book meant ‘too many things’ in Jae’s. 

“Well, the clothes you’re wearing are fine. Dowoon’s not gonna care all that much as long as you show up. He’s been waiting for this for over a year, think about it. It’s not mismatched outfits that’s gonna turn him away.” 

“You sure?” Wonpil said uncertainly, looking down at himself for the hundredth time. “It-- it’s not too plain is it? I mean black and white is always--”

“Wonpil,” Jae sighed and fixed him with a look of total exasperation. The sudden edge in his voice threw him off guard, leaving him rooted in place and unblinkingly staring at Jae. With a significantly softer voice, Jae spoke, “you look good in anything. It’s ok.” 

“Really?” he brightened up immediately, gaping at him in pleasant shock.

Wonpil thought he saw a look of panic flash in Jae’s eyes before his lips stretched into one of his badgering smiles. “Sike! Your clothes are as ugly as you. Garbage belongs with trash.” He burst out laughing, eyes vanishing into the creases of his sockets, and continuously slapped his thighs in a statement of how hilarious he was.

“You’re a fucking jerk,” Wonpil unnecessarily observed, tossing a sock at Jae. The latter shrieked as he dodged the offending projectile flying straight at him. 

“Eww bro! Don’t throw your nasty shit at me!” he lamented. Much to Wonpil’s dismay, he missed the look of absolute horror Jae unmasked and instead picked up other pairs of socks he was actually going to wear and not launch at some hard-nosed jerk. 

“That’ll keep you from opening  _ your  _ nasty trap,” Wonpil accused, sitting on the floor and displaying his back to Jae as he slipped into his socks.

As it turned out, Wonpil still had a few minutes to spare by the time he made it downstairs and promised his mom he’d be home no later than midnight. At best, he’d be on time but heaving from rushing. At worst, he’d be five minutes late but prim. For now, he stood on his porch, letting Jae smooth the wrinkles in his shirt. 

“Alright,” Jae said with a final tug at the hem of his right sleeve. “Have a good time Pil.” Wonpil watched as his lips thinned out into a straight line, eyes hidden behind the glint of his glasses. 

“Right,” Wonpil sighed, bouncing on his heels and clapping his hands. Sensing his restlessness, Jae pushed both his hands down on either side of Wonpil’s shoulder to steady him. 

“Relax,” was Jae’s whispered word of comfort, swiping at his hair and curving it behind his ear. His face remained placid, content with just fixing the errant strands of Wonpil’s hair. He hoped to hell he’d remembered to wash it this morning. “Just think of us going to get ice cream together.” 

“Ugh, please no,” Wonpil feigned nausea, holding his stomach. “I don’t want to throw up in front of him.”

“Dickhead,” Jae laughed and slapped his arm. Wonpil slapped back. “I just meant it as something casual, so you won’t be too nervous.”

“Yeah,” Wonpil blankly agreed. Of course Jae would label their ice cream dates as casual. At this point, the pain associated with the man became nothing short of numbed, subdued pangs in his heart, absent enough to be bearable but present enough to be felt. Like noticing yet another detail endorsing the differences in the love they brandished. Jae was too much of a skirt-chaser to ever realize, Wonpil knew, yet his optimistic inner self still hoped for something else, vainly. “I knew that,” he stared off into the distance where the setting sun alerted him of his tardiness.

“Oh, before I forget,” Jae said as he wiggled out of his leather jacket. He bunched it up as best as one could bunch up a cluster of leather before sticking it in front of Wonpil. “Wear this. It might get cold out.” 

Wonpil bemusedly accepted the offer, blinking at the black, heavy thing now weighing in his hands. Slowly, he slipped his arms inside the sleeves and adjusted himself to the size difference. It didn’t look too off-kilter on him, just served as an oversized jacket. And it smelled distinctly like Jae, too. 

“Now go! You’ll be late,” Jae ushered, asserting himself with shooing hand gestures. 

“Ok,” Wonpil muttered, hardly able to meet Jae’s searching gaze. “Bye, hyung.”

Wonpil marched off reluctantly, holding the collar of his newly-obtained leather jacket close to his nose. Leather jackets don’t often go into the washing machine unless urgently needed to, and (expensive) cologne rarely wore off within just a few days. 

His heart pumped loudly in his ears, unaccustomed to being this close to Jae. He stopped in his tracks before rounding the corner and peered over his shoulder, looking for Jae. He spotted his friend heading back to his home, shoulders sagged and gaze strapped to the ground. 

Sighing, Wonpil turned back, determined that this meant nothing more to Jae than encouraging his best friend to go on dates and live a happy life. It was undeniable, he knew, so he pulled his lips into a smile praying the placebo effect was a functional concept, intent on reaching his destination which involved more than simply meeting Dowoon. 

This was where Wonpil seriously moved on, leaving everything behind whether he wanted or not, whether it was easy or difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know my writing kind of changed, mayhaps, and it worries me to be unable to meet the expectations of my readers. so don't hesitate to comment what you think! it's really important to me <3
> 
> also, i'm not active at all on twitter, but here it is anyway, along with my changed username: @cyaneyesullivan

**Author's Note:**

> i’m treating this fic more as writing practice, so it’s about to get messy
> 
> bear with me, this is gonna be long,, thankfully, i already have an outline
> 
> hope you liked this ;-;


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